


do what they say (say what you mean)

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Flirting, Intoxication, M/M, Making Out, of the cardassian variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 22:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dukat and Weyoun flirt and kiss some.
Relationships: Dukat/Weyoun
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	do what they say (say what you mean)

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the kanar incident in S5E19 "Ties of Blood and Water". I have a lot of thoughts about these two but especially love the idea of both of them just being terrible to each other, but also being all over each other. I'm only up through season 5 in DS9, and I'm sure the dynamics will change, but this is just as they are during that episode. I love how exasperated Dukat is with Weyoun in Quark's though, that whole scene is a gem.  
Title is from One Thing Leads to Another - The Fixx.

“You shouldn’t have had all of that kanar, Weyoun. I don’t care if you’re supposedly immune to poison, but really-”

“Oh, it’s not having any sort of effect on me, really-”

“I find that hard to believe,” Dukat glares down at the small Vorta, who is swaying back and forth, cheeks and nose flushed lilac as he clings to Dukat’s sleeve for support. “You’re obviously not sober, and I will not have you parading yourself around like this- we have a reputation to uphold.”

Weyoun scrunches his nose up and frowns. “I find that hard to believe. I thought that any reputation you previously held had been- scattered to the winds.” He laughs brightly, and Dukat feels a vein in his temple throb in irritation.

That’s been happening a lot recently.

Weyoun leans against him as Dukat leads him into their quarters, rubbing his upper arm through the thick material of his uniform, and humming softly to himself. Dukat lets his guard down for a moment, and allows himself to indulge in putting one of his hands on his lower back, feeling the Vorta press back into the touch subtly.

At least the Founders seemed to know what to do with their “advisors”- Weyoun is certainly a receptive companion. 

And Dukat can’t say the arguing and constant jabs at his personhood are entirely unwelcome- after all, he is a Cardassian, and to say he didn’t like it would not be very… becoming of him. He strokes the bumps of the Vorta’s ridged spine, hiking up the tunic to feel the little ridges of cartilage that swirl out across his lower back. Weyoun mutters something under his breath. “Dukat, you don’t need to take advantage of me. If you want something, just ask… after all, I am supposed to assist you in any way I can, even if you’re so… base.”

And the spark is gone. Dukat isn’t sure what he wants anymore. 

He certainly didn’t want Weyoun conceding to him.

Dukat frowns, and shoves Weyoun back onto the couch.

Weyoun lets out a little yelp as he falls, landing on the hard cushions, and bouncing on the pillows that decorate it sparsely.

“Mm, manhandling me now, are you? I see you don’t have any other tricks up your sleeve. If you do, you certainly haven’t made them known to me.”

“And why should you be the one to know, Vorta? You’re not my lover. I tolerate you, that is all-”

“You don’t tolerate me. You do like me, Dukat, you just don’t know it yet.” Weyoun giggles quietly to himself. He stretches luxuriously, arms above his head, and yawns. “Now, if you want to do anything, do so before I fall asleep.”

Dukat grunts and shoves a knee between Weyoun’s legs, and leans down to kiss him-

He stops.

Weyoun’s eyes open, and he stares at him with distant, cold eyes. 

“I’m waiting, Dukat.”

“No.”

“Strange. I expected you liked having your partners like this.” 

“I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

Weyoun smirks. “Oh? And what will you give me instead? Whatever shall you do? Coddle me like a child’s toy? Take a high frequency shower?”   
Dukat shakes his head. "You want me to lose control. I will not do any such thing, I am-"

"A mentally and physically disciplined Cardassian male. Stop telling yourself that." Weyoun gets up from the couch. His face is no longer flushed, which means the toxins have left his system. He looks a bit dizzy, and gazes down at Dukat.

His head is tilted elegantly, pale eyes scrutinizing every inch of Dukat's face. "Ah, forgive me, but I do believe that I was drunk, and may have said some most unprofessional things."

Dukat crosses his arms and huffs. "Unprofessional is the least of your worries."

Weyoun smiles sweetly. "Is that so?" He gets back down on the couch, almost crawling into Dukat's lap. "I had no clue."

The Cardassian tries to lean back, long neck tilting away from Weyoun's advances. No longer under the influence, this was now all Weyoun, and Dukat didn't know how to feel about a lapful of sassy Vorta. 

Usually, pretty good, but he's decidedly not "in the mood" for it right now.

He's not persistent enough in making his avoidance known, and now Weyoun has situated himself in his lap. Dukat shudders as he feels the warmth radiating from him, unconsciously pressing into it. 

Weyoun responds in kind, until they're chest to chest against each other. He feels a cold nose against the side of his neck, and he shivers. Scaled hands dig black claws into his sides, and it's not long before they slide under his tunic again to really grab onto him. 

Dukat lets out a soft rumble of appreciation for the warmth, and Weyoun frowns at the sensation of cold, reptilian hands around his waist. 

“You’re so small, Weyoun, do you know that?” Dukat murmurs under his breath, squeezing the Vorta tighter. “So delicate. Is that why they clone you, because you’re so fragile you might just-”

Weyoun gasps as Dukat tugs him forth, and his back pops at the sudden movement.

“-Break.” Dukat smiles at Weyoun’s shocked expression. 

Weyoun frowns. 

“I am just about as durable as any of your men. Don’t-”

“I am joking.” Dukat lets out that little huff of barely contained laughter that irritates Weyoun to no end, and he keeps kissing his neck. He unclasps Weyoun’s short jacket and it falls to the floor, giving him more room to work with. 

Weyoun feels a familiar heat rise to his face, and he squirms uselessly in the arms of the larger man as he works up to the ridge of his ear.

Dukat gives it a gentle nip right along the edge, and Weyoun could almost cry. 

“If you do want this, stop teasing me.”

“But it’s fun to tease you. You’re so… hm. So easy to tease. Just look at these eyes-” He grabs Weyoun’s chin and tilts his face up. 

Unconsciously, Weyoun pouts and furrows his brow. 

“How coquettish. Weyoun, I would have thought you had more self respect for yourself. How could I ever control myself around someone like you? Such innocent eyes, is it intentional?”

“They’re simply eyes, Dukat. You’re projecting.” 

Dukat, like any self-respecting Cardassian (not that he was), continued. 

“I believe humans have a term for a young, promiscuous-”

“I’m stopping you there.” Weyoun smiles and presses a finger against Dukat’s lips. “I don’t want to hear about your strange tastes.”

Dukat bites the tip of his finger, and Weyoun rolls his eyes.

“As I was saying, Dukat, do you want me now, or not?”

Dukat says nothing, only rolls the both of them over so now Dukat is on top, Weyoun beneath him. The Vorta looks satisfied with the turn of events, and he kisses Dukat slowly, with all the time in the world. Combing his hands through his hair, bringing him down deeper into it. 

For a cloned diplomat, he was a hell of a kisser. Warm, mammalian lips- a weakness Dukat had always held. 

He feels those clever hands leave his now mussed hair and begin to unbuckle his chestplate, and he almost melts against Weyoun.

He’s not getting out of this mess anytime soon, but even if he were offered the chance….

He’s not making any promises that he’d take it.


End file.
